The story is underway. The aforementioned pre-sarcastic-interruption is because this man, in whom the instincts and inclinations are so strong and pure, is completely unable to control these strong and pure instincts and inclinations. What invariably happens is that the man meets a halfway or even quarterway desirable woman, and he immediately falls head over… Continue reading David Foster Wallace
The word ‘despair’ is overused and banalized now, but it’s a serious word, and I’m using it seriously. It’s close to what people call dread or angst, but it’s not these things, quite. It’s more like wanting to die in order to escape the unbearable sadness of knowing I’m small and weak and selfish and… Continue reading David Foster Wallace
When Someone Says I Love You the whole room fills up with iced tea, something gives: the sun peels from your window, a sugared lemon, whole, flaming, hanging there. You tell them they must: puncture your chest with a straw to suck all the empty out, but because they say love they think they can’t… Continue reading Karyna McGlynn
That sometimes human beings have to just sit in one place and, like, hurt. — David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest. (Back Bay Books; 1st Paperback Ed edition February 1, 1997)
We’re all terribly, terribly lonely. And there’s a way, at least in prose fiction, that can allow you to be intimate with the world and with a mind and with characters that you just can’t be in the real world. — David Foster Wallace, Whiskey Island, Spring, 1993.
Please learn the pragmatics of expressing fear: sometimes words that seem to express really invoke. — David Foster Wallace. Infinite Jest. (Back Bay Books; 1st Paperback Ed edition February 1, 1997)
He says when he tries to pray he gets this like image in his mind’s eye of the brainwaves or whatever of his prayers going out and out, with nothing to stop them, going, going, radiating out into like space and outliving him and still going and never hitting Anything out there, much less Something… Continue reading David Foster Wallace